The Way of Explorers, by Becky DeVito

Sailboat Seascape on Sunset, by Tatyana Pchelnikova (Ukraine) 2021

The Way of Explorers 
 
In the land of Pablo Neruda’s socks 
no gift is simple. And that’s a law 
of nature, like gravity. When he saw 
he had entered new territory, he charted 
the quantum mechanics of it--how alternate 
realities exist in this very moment. 
And so, all the care that goes into raising sheep 
and gathering wool and knitting socks 
is transformed into a universe 
of worlds within worlds and all we need 
is the ability to see it. 
That land is part of an archipelago. You can jaunt
to the land where an onion is a flower 
and it is okay to cry--
and to the land where age is not a measure of time, 
but a ladder made of air. He died half a century ago 
but the portal he inked will transport you there. 
 
And then there is a land with a magic fig tree. 
Just ask Ross Gay. He’ll give the coordinates. 
That tree holds the power to transform passers by 
into community. Not where you set down roots, 
but where you let the roots someone planted long ago 
pull water from the earth to mix with sunlight 
and chlorophyll to produce a sugary potion 
that can make busy people slow down 
and commune with each other--strangers, 
that’s who--to create a kind of plenty even the yellow 
jackets are willing to share. And while you’re talking 
to him, ask him to draw you a map to the land 
where the act of buttoning a shirt can plant 
a seed and if you connect the dots 
you can cultivate your own magic fig tree. 
 
With ode as sextant, constellations 
of islands that harbour enchantment 
remain to be discovered. 
Some not far from the routes 
you’ve traced and retraced, 
some along large tracts 
where humans have yet to go. 
They call to you, a world away. 
Tatyana Pchelnikova shows what you need 
is a schooner, nimble enough to skip 
through storm and glassy lull alike, 
powered by the Earth’s own breath, 
headsail touched by the alchemy 
of the setting sun. 
That, and to give yourself 
permission to go aboard.
 
Becky DeVito 
 
Becky DeVito has used poetry as a means of working her way through trauma. Her experiences writing poetry led her to investigate the ways in which poets come to new insights through the process of drafting and revising their poems for her doctoral dissertation. She is a professor of psychology at the Capital campus of CT State Community College in Hartford, Connecticut. Her poems have been published in The Ekphrastic Review, Frogpond, Mobius: The Journal of Social Change, Naugatuck River Review, The New Verse News, Ribbons: Tanka Society of America Journal, and others. Join her on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.